Fragments of You
by HayashiOkami
Summary: A Suicide Club Fanfic. The chaos of the mass suicides continue, but everyone's daily lives continue on. For every person who commits suicide, there is another person who will stay alive no matter what. How are they connected? Is there a way to stop these suicides, or even a way to slow the casualties? It all starts with a few people…
1. Flying

**Pieces of You**

**[A Suicide Club Fanfiction]**

_The chaos of the mass suicides continue, but everyone's daily lives continue on. For every person who commits suicide, there is another person who will stay alive no matter what. Yet even the ones who live are connected in some way to the dead and the other living, in ways they could never have imagined. Is there a way to stop these suicides, or even a way to slow the casualties? It all starts with a few people..._

_A boy whose life has nothing to offer him, but cannot bear to leave this world as a burden on others' shoulders._

_A young golfer with a horrible sense of fashion who repeatedly turns up in the police station on reports of domestic violence._

_A girl who believes she is invincible because everyone else is a figment of her imagination,_

_and her younger brother whose silent loyalty hides a secret he cannot tell anyone._

**Flying**

He winced as the thin, hollow needle slid into the tender skin on his wrist, piercing a spindly vein he could barely see. The sensitive area itched, perhaps just because he was aware that there was a sharp, pointy needle underneath his skin. The nurse plastered a piece of gauze over the puncture wound with medical tape and warned him not to touch it if he wanted to relieve himself of the pain.

Although watching a clear liquid drip down the tube into his body was disturbing, he firmly held his other arm against his side and resisted all urges to yank the stupid thing out. His head, as well as other parts of his body, were on _fire_, and all he really wanted at the moment was for it to stop. The striking white lights on the ceiling were beginning to blur and dance before his eyes.

A masked face entered his vision, lips moving behind the paper shield, but he could only hear vague murmurs through the sharp ringing in his ears. No matter how many times he blinked or shook his head, it refused to clear. He wondered when those painkillers would begin to take effect because he was _really_ tired of this headache and the fire festering in the open wound on his forehead, currently underneath layers of soaked gauze.

The nurse appeared in the corner of his eye holding a metal tray of shiny metallic objects and fluffy gauze. He vaguely wondered what the doctor intended on doing with those when a dull sting from his arm distracted him. It was hard to see the nurse, but he managed to figure out that she was dabbing at his other open wounds while the doctor picked his tools carefully from the selection on the tray. At least the thing on his head made all of the other pains on his body seem like tiny paper cuts in comparison.

"Can you feel this, Nakajima-kun?" the doctor had to enunciate twice before he understood the man's words. His confusion must have been satisfactory as an answer because the doctor didn't say anything more and he really didn't feel much more than a bit of pressure against his head. The ache was still prominent, but if he focused his gaze on the ceiling and tried to make out the shapes there it wasn't so bad.

His eyes flickered lethargically after a while. It might have been a while. It could also have been five minutes for all he knew. Some subconscious part of him knew better than to fall asleep given the paramedics' warnings as they tended to him in the ambulance. The nurse occasionally slapped his cheek lightly, as well, her unclear voice ringing in his ears as he struggled to keep his eyes opened.

_Don't fall asleep. You might have a concussion. Focus on something, anything, like dancers do to keep their balance. Don't fall asleep._

The lights faded in his vision and suddenly the ground beneath him was moving - or perhaps it was _he _who was moving. The fluorescent lights sped by like the lampposts on a highway, entering and leaving people's lives before they could even register that the lights had been there. His body was light and numb, the pain in his head throbbing with the intensity of an annoying, persistent headache. It was an improvement.

It was a little like flying, if human beings could ever fly like this. Not that he would know what flying felt like. Surely it wasn't like falling. Then again, he had never fallen from any height greater than a short tree before either.

They brought him into a dimmer room. From his position he could see curtains dividing the room in half and the backs of grey plastic chairs. Maybe they would let him sleep, but he doubted it. The nurse stayed with him for a time, speaking to someone at the door as he blearily opened and closed his eyes, itching to move but unable to do more than twitch his fingers. His limbs, what little he could feel of them, were heavy and leaden.

A figure dressed in a male school uniform entered the room. He had worn the same light grey blazer and slacks, but the nurse had been forced to throw the top half of his outfit in a plastic bag because of the blood. He wondered if he would have to throw all of it in the trash or if he could somehow wash the stains out. It would be such a bother if he had to buy a new uniform.

The person who he latently recognized as his friend Yukio sat in the grey plastic chair by the bed. Grateful that the ringing in his ears had stopped, he turned his head to the side and struggled to open his mouth enough to form coherent words. His mind was a little blurry; he vaguely remembered the events leading up to his shipment to the hospital, but it was difficult to grasp.

"What happened?" he managed to murmur. His words sounded funny, but he must have made some sense because his friend answered after a moment.

"…After Mishima and Kobe made you face-plant on the pavement and threw you down the stairs, someone called the police. They were stupid; the police station is really close to the bridge. They called an ambulance, but I think you were going in and out of consciousness by then. They wouldn't let me touch you, but one of them drove me here. I think his name is Yamane. Anyways, they said that you have a concussion and not to let you sleep."

He nodded lethargically and tried to move his hand again, but it was too much an effort to lift it from the sheets. Yukio stared at him, arms crossed over his chest, wearing a patch of gauze on his cheek near his lips where Mishima had punched him. He remembered that much. He didn't really know how it started, though. They had been walking across the bridge to go somewhere…he stopped thinking about it because it hurt his head, but didn't feel all that bothered about the blanks in his memory.

"I thought we were in trouble there, when you wouldn't move at all and the bleeding wouldn't stop. The doctors said it wasn't a bad cut, but I thought you were bleeding out or something…They said it was because head wounds bleed a lot. Shouldn't be too bad if you don't fall asleep," Yukio rambled, simply to occupy the time. He liked to talk and normally would discuss something a little less serious, laugh a bit, and tease him. He guessed that it had really freaked his friend out.

"Sorry to worry you," he mumbled, turning his head back to the ceiling where he wouldn't develop a crick in his neck. "What happened to those two? Did the police get them?"

"Yeah," Yukio replied. A pause filled the air between them. Maybe this was awkward for his friend; he didn't think so, but then again, he was still floating in a different world now and could barely move his fingers. "That officer who drove me here wants to talk to you later, when you wake up a bit. You can go home soon, in fact. The hospital is a little busy with all that stuff that's been happening on the news. You remember the people who came to talk to us in homeroom, right?"

"Who…was that again? Who drove you?" he asked, struggling to recall the name. He was a bit unfocused now, that was true, so no matter how hard he tried he couldn't remember. The people who visited their homeroom, though, he did know with great clarity. It had been a boring morning that grew increasingly boring as the presentation went on. He had been doodling all that time.

"Officer Yamane," his friend said impatiently. His friend _was_ an impatient person. He was probably doing that annoying thing with his leg, moving it up and down rapidly. He did that when he was impatient or bored. "You'd better not be getting amnesia. How am I supposed to explain _that_ to your parents?"

"Yamane-san is our neighbor…he's nice and has a cat. She comes into our backyard often, so I play with her. Oh, he has a wife, too." The little white cat with the grey markings entered his mind. She was adorable; the family had named her Yumi and she was always white, even after she went wandering the neighborhood for a while. Sometimes she would come to his backyard and curl up in his lap with a pleasant purr, basking in the sun as he scratched her ears.

"I wonder if Yamane-san brought his cat…?"

He heard a dubious scoff. "Are you alright? I'm pretty sure he didn't bring his cat with him to work. You're in the hospital, if you remember, because Kobe shoved you down a flight of stairs. Oh, you have stitches, too! Five of them right near your hairline. It's covered up with gauze right now, so you can't see it yet. It's going to leave a scar. Isn't that a fun souvenir?"

That was right. They were going to the music store because Yukio wanted a new CD and his parents had asked him to pick some things up from the grocery store. There were no cats involved. Mishima and Kobe, who antagonized them occasionally in school, followed them part of the way through the streets and acted as if he were their friend. They dropped the act when they reached the bridge that crossed over the river dividing that part of the city.

That had led to the rather one-sided fight. Mishima shoved him when he was off-balance and his face had met the pavement, scraping parts of his cheek, hands, and knees. While Yukio yanked him away, Kobe had lifted him to his feet and whether it was an accident or not, shoved him down the stairs. He was surprised that he avoided breaking something.

"What else…is wrong with me? Are there anymore stitches?" he asked.

"Just those on your forehead where your face met the concrete," Yukio told him with a disgruntled voice. "Have fun taking a shower for a week with all of those bandages they gave you. You aren't supposed to get some of them wet."

They were quiet for a while after that. Yukio shook his shoulder each time his eyes began to flutter closed and he spoke occasionally about one random thing or another. As soon as the topic dropped, he had trouble recalling what it was they were even discussing. The room should have had a television set or at least a radio, but apparently Yukio didn't feel like listening to anything. That was rare. Everyone was listening to music these days.

Yukio shook him again, but this time he stared at his friend in confusion. He wasn't about to fall asleep this time. The other boy pointed towards the door where a taller person stood, a shadow against the bright lights beyond the room. The person entered the room, a familiar man in a familiar suit. He smiled at the officer.

"Hello, Yamane-san. Where's your cat?" he asked. It seemed like a perfectly logical question to him, but he heard Yukio scoff and watched his neighbor's confused frown turn into a small laugh of amusement that he didn't understand. The family's cat usually came when they called.

"She's at home," he chuckled. "How are you doing, Asuka-kun? Does anything hurt? Your parents are worried about you."

He frowned; that wasn't good. He didn't want his parents to worry over some stupid fight he had been in. At least they were both busy with their jobs this week and could not afford a single day off. They wouldn't have to skip work just to take care of him when his wounds weren't even that serious. He knew how much it bothered them to have interruptions during especially busy hours at the office.

"They…they aren't coming, are they?" he asked with concerned, troubled eyes. "I feel fine. It doesn't really hurt much anymore."

"No, I'm sorry. They said they want to come, but can't get off work yet," Yamane apologized unnecessarily, reading his concern the wrong way. He stepped around the bed, in and out of sight, and stopped to stand next to Yukio. "Your friend didn't get a chance to tell me what happened in the car. What can you remember?"

Yukio scowled, but didn't seem in the mood to retell the story as he leaned back against the chair.

"I fell down the stairs of that bridge near the police station. But I got these stitches from falling flat on my face."

"You kind of went _flying_ down the stairs, actually," Yukio interjected with a chuckle. The officer made a choked noise, his eyes wide. "I guess you're pretty light. I still don't know how you didn't get more hurt, to be honest."

"You did _what? _How am I supposed to explain this to your parents? Why would you do that?" Yamane said incredulously, confusing him as he listened intently. It was hard to concentrate on one thing in particular, so just keeping up with the conversation was a challenge. It took him a moment to register the information correctly.

"It's not like I _wanted_ to go 'flying down the stairs' as you put it," he frowned, twitching his fingers again. This time he succeed in dragging his hand up to his temple, gently prodding the gauze there but afraid to press against it too hard, even if it was numb. "I was pushed. Well, I guess you can say I was thrown, too, by those high school boys you officers arrested. We were in a fight."

"You can't say we were in a fight," Yukio protested. "If you say that, it means that we willingly participated. We didn't; they did everything. They didn't even stop at pushing you down. They had to shove you down the stairs, too. So that's the entire story, officer."

Yamane nodded slowly, looking back and forth between the two boys. Whatever concern he had was a result of those incidents those specialists had been coming to their school to talk about. Well, they weren't called incidents anymore, but murder. He almost forgot that Yamane was a police officer sometimes. He had a right to be concerned, he supposed, but it was still a bit silly to think he had jumped off a flight of stairs of his own volition.

Really, if he wanted to kill himself, he would have jumped off the bridge itself. That was common sense, he thought, but considering their reaction to his question about the cat, he had to rethink that. He sighed and let his hand rest against the bed again.

"When can I get out of here?" he whined.

* * *

- SO THIS MOVIE. It really grows on you after you get past the ambiguous ending. Really creepy and deserves more fic about it. So here I am. All original characters with the occasional canon character showing up (from the police).

- All characters are also inspired by characters from other fandoms, as well, so I don't own some of them. Can you name them all? The name of the fic, _Pieces of You,_ comes from an ending song from the anime _Natsume Yuujinchou/Natsume's Book of Friends._


	2. Uninhibited

**Pieces of You**

**[A Suicide Club Fanfiction]**

**Uninhibited**

Yukio was ready to throttle his friend and leave him in a ditch to die, not to sound dramatic, but he really could not stand much more of this. The nurses had informed him that his friend would be lightheaded and a little off balance while the morphine was still in his system. They had not given him a heavy dosage, just enough to keep the pain away for a few hours. He even had the prescription painkillers in his pocket for later.

After he had his minor injuries cleaned and bandaged, he had been forced to wait for the doctors to finish sewing his friend's head up. He didn't expect Asuka to start talking so early, but kept the nurse's warning in mind and spoke with him even when he had run out of words. It took him a bit to realize that his friend had begun to lose it and once the police officer entered the room he was just amused with the strange comments Asuka spouted every now and again.

By the time the officer was allowed to check Asuka out of the hospital on behalf of his parents, Yukio was about ready to lose it himself. Everything out of Asuka's mouth made little sense and was terribly uncharacteristic of him. He even _giggled_ and clung to his upper arm as they were leaving the hospital room after the nurse had taken the IV out and given him a water bottle so he wouldn't get dehydrated.

Asuka leaned against him once they were in the back seat of the police car, refusing to let go long enough for him to buckle either of their seat belts. He had stopped listening to whatever came spewing out of his friend's mouth by now. Even the officer, Yamane, seemed a little less than amused when he climbed in the driver's seat. Yukio glared at his head. At least he didn't have a hyperactive teenager clinging to his arm.

"Asuka, stop it right now. We're in a police car, but doesn't mean we are exempt from wearing a seat belt. It would look really bad if we didn't," he tried to reason with the other boy, who whined and reluctantly removed himself long enough for Yukio to buckle their seat belts. He promptly reattached himself, ignorant of his friend's piercing glare. "What is wrong with you?"

"Nothing," his friend replied innocently. "Where are we going, again?"

"To the police station, for the _fourth _time," Yukio grumbled. He glanced down at the top of the boy's head. "I can't believe you are high off your painkillers. I will never let you forget this, _ever_."

"Are you two alright back there?" the officer called from the driver's seat. Yukio dismissed him with a disgruntled noise and glanced out the window where the city was flying by, an array of metallic buildings glinting in the sunlight. It had been a while since he traveled in a car like this. Usually he took the bus or train. His parents, too, commuted. He and Asuka walked to school.

The car paused at a light and the officer twisted around to face them briefly. "When we get to the station, there's a room in the back you can stay in. It's our break room," he turned around again and continued talking, "and there's a vending machine and water, so help yourselves. Stay there and don't cause any trouble while I work, alright? It's busy as hell in there nowadays and we don't need some kids running around while we work.

"There's also magazines in the front waiting rooms if you get bored. And if you happen to overhear people talking, _do not_ repeat whatever you hear. It's all confidential, alright?" Yukio made an affirmative noise as he rolled his eyes behind the man's back. As if they wanted to leak police secrets. Asuka wasn't even lucid enough to know where he was going.

All he had wanted was that CD from the music store. It was a simple enough errand, but apparently even that had gone terribly wrong courtesy of Mishima and Kobe, those arrogant jerks. Now his friend was high off prescribed medicine and he was on his way to the police station. Who knew how long they would have to wait until Yamane's shift ended, too. It wasn't like either of their parents were free.

Even if they were free, Asuka probably wouldn't let them come pick him up, claiming that he was okay and that they didn't need to worry. He eyed the patch of gauze, seeped red in certain spots, where the fresh stitches were. Not to mention the various other scrapes and bruises the hospital had patched up. He swatted Asuka's hand away as he reached to itch at the bandage that covered the place where he had the IV.

It was going to be a long, long night. It wasn't even evening yet.

Yukio twisted the cap off the cold plastic water bottle in his hand, sighing a breath of relief once he took a sip. It was the middle of June and warm enough that he sincerely wished he wasn't wearing his school uniform now or at least had the foresight to leave the blazer behind. Well, at least summer break was only a few weeks away. The fans in the police station were running, but it was still warmer than usual.

"Why are you just standing there? Come and get him off me!" Yamane demanded from his seat in the main office area filled with desks, paper, and computers. Yukio chuckled as Asuka wrapped his arms around the officer and hung off his neck, completely dead weight as he laughed. He had no idea what his friend's mind must have been like at the moment.

"He's been doing that to me for an hour now. Did the doctors tell you when it's going to wear off? Maybe if we give him some sleeping pills…" Yukio trailed off, smirking to himself behind his hand as the officer glared at him. He sighed and recapped the bottle before heading over to pry his friend off the man. "Alright, alright, I'm getting him off. Come on, Asu-chan, we're leaving the nice man alone now."

Asuka frowned and let go, only to smack Yukio in the chest as he dragged his friend away. "Don't call me that. I'm not a girl," he whined. "I'm not a kid, either."

Yukio scoffed as he pushed the other boy into the staff room with the fold up table and chairs, a fridge, a water dispenser, and a microwave oven. The vending machine was right outside the door and against the wall. It was boring as hell for someone who was sober and not high off his head. Somehow, Asuka found ways to amuse himself, mostly by poking through things that weren't his.

It was a weird parody of his friend's usual personality. He would never consider rifling through others' belongings like this version of him was intent on doing. Yukio sighed again and yanked him away from the refrigerator.

"What am I going to do with you…?" he pondered as Asuka sat down in a folding chair with a strange giggle. He kicked his legs back and forth and smiled up at him with a wide grin. Yukio stared at him for a moment and finally thought of a solution. He returned the grin and leaned down slightly. "Okay, Asuka, you wait right here. I'll be back. Don't move and we can play a game later, okay?"

Asuka nodded enthusiastically and sat back in the chair, whistling a little tune as Yukio left the room to find some type of equipment that would help.

Returning sometime later, he found that the other boy was fidgeting badly, desperately wanting to walk around and find more trouble. His eyes brightened when he saw that Yukio had returned and he stared up at him with a wide, expectant gaze. "You're back!" he said unnecessarily, tugging at the hem of the spare t-shirt the hospital had given him before leaping up to wrap his arms around Yukio's torso.

He winced and abruptly pushed Asuka back in the chair, directing him to hold still for a moment longer as he pulled out the nylon rope from behind his back. It was fortunate that he had found some in the station and it wouldn't be missed, either. He tied one end around Asuka's wrist, carefully bent it backwards to wrap around the back of the chair, and began winding the rope around his midsection.

"What're you doing?" Asuka asked curiously.

Yukio shushed him and continued, tying his other hand to the chair itself sometime later, making sure he didn't pull too hard. It wasn't like he wanted to hurt his friend. He just wanted to make him stop annoying every person within a four meter radius of him. As he finished, he severed the rope with a pair of scissors he found in a drawer and took a seat in a chair opposite his friend.

"Isn't this a lot better? What do you want to talk about now?" Asuka shifted uncomfortably, trying to move his arms with no results. He looked a little miffed, as miffed as a person who could barely form comprehensive sentences could be. "Don't hurt yourself, Asuka. Your parents will wonder why you have rope burns and I really don't feel like explaining it to them."

The bound boy paused, brief guilt overcoming his features as he settled down. Well, at least he now knew that not even drugs could get rid of his friend's true nature. It seemed that he would always derive guilt from inconveniencing other people. Yukio's frown and displeasure softened. Okay, maybe he felt a little bad - not about tying him up, but for his callous words. He didn't say sorry, because he thought that Asuka probably wouldn't even remember this later. If he were normal, he would have been able to read the apology in Yukio's expression.

"So, do you want to come to the music store with me tomorrow? Maybe we should wait until you can take that bandage off so we can show it off to everyone, though. I can wait that long. It's not like the track isn't on the radio every other station. I didn't really understand why everyone in school likes that band, but their music is pretty catchy. I know you don't like music, though, so take my word on it, alright?"

Asuka nodded, though he wasn't sure if the boy actually understood anything.

"It's better than that pop group that disbanded a few weeks ago - Dessert, right? I don't know; it didn't do much for me. Too sweet, I guess," Yukio mused. "Although their songs were catchy, too. Well, that's all over now. That suicide craze is still around, though. The teachers are all breathing down our necks these days. If you're feeling a bit sad one day, they watch you because you might decide to slit your wrists tomorrow. If you're happy, they think you're going to jump off the rooftop. We can't win, it seems."

"Falling down stairs _hurts_," Asuka agreed with as serious a nod as he could manage in his state. "I don't want to jump off a building. It would be such a pain to clean up."

Yukio stared at him dubiously, one eyebrow raised. "That doesn't really inspire confidence. You don't want to jump off a rooftop because you'll leave a mess behind?"

Asuka scrunched his eyes up and shook his head. "No, of course not! I'm just saying it'll hurt and I don't want my parents to be sad. They would be sad, you know, even if I tell them not to. And you would be, too, and so would people at school I don't even talk to. If I could get rid of all that, then maybe…"

"But that's unrealistic." Yukio watched an array of emotions fight for dominance in his friend's eyes, some of which were genuine. "You can't just disappear off the face of the earth without at least one or two people caring."

"Yeah, that's how it is, isn't it?"

* * *

- The possibility of someone acting like this due to painkillers, even hospital-grade ones, is probably slim. Whatever. Artistic license. Some of the after effects of the surgery and the drugs are based off real life experiences. Some conversations are also based off conversations from different series.

- Asuka is actually a female name. It should be familiar as a male name if anyone reads or watches _Otomen_.


	3. Inappropriate

**Pieces of You**

**[A Suicide Club Fanfiction]**

**Inappropriate**

Yamane Kenta was about to have a child of his own in just two short months. His wife's pregnancy was the only thing that managed to improve his day after working the horrifying slew of suicides that came into the station daily. They had picked out names already, prepared for the baby's arrival, and speculated over the baby's gender and personality every night. They had chosen to wait for the surprise instead of finding out through ultrasound.

Even though he was overjoyed to become a father, the two kids currently in the staff room were driving him crazy. Maybe it had to do with the teenage years or the fact that they weren't his own kids. He felt bad, but was also overwhelmed. He really did like the Nakajima's and their son, but he had never seen this side of the kid before. He was the reserved type of boy one could never read or predict.

It was those types that once unsettled him, but nowadays it was the constantly smiling ones they had to worry about. He had heard about Kuroda, who was stationed only one office away, and his family; everyone in the precinct knew about that case and took the loss harshly. Even though they had arrested a man who claimed to be responsible for the whole ordeal, the suicides still wouldn't stop.

He decided to take his break early, just to check on those two high school kids and make sure they weren't terrorizing someone or wrecking the place. Instead of getting mad at him for bringing those two in, his colleagues had been oddly accepting. Of course, they laughed and chuckled at him whenever the Nakajima's kid decided to tackle him, but he had expected to be chastised for his unprofessionalism.

Just as he was about to enter the staff room, a woman secretary came up to him from around the corner and said that they had brought someone in and a senior officer said to get him. Confused, he followed her through the hallways to an interrogation and holding room. They opened the door to the observational area with one-sided glass along the far wall and a desk in the corner for recording conversations.

He peered into the room where his senior colleague sat across from a young man with vibrant, gaudy clothes and strange pink hair. He instantly released a groan before the secretary could tell him anything more about the call, and it wasn't like he needed the information anymore so he shooed her away. He could take care of this with his eyes closed and his hands bound by now; he was almost about ready to ignore the formalities and skip filing the paperwork.

With the chaos currently overtaking the station, he could get away with it, too. His superiors would never notice; most of their regular files on traffic violations and minor crimes such as theft had been buried by the stacks of papers on the suicides. The idea was sounding more and more appealing by the second as he left the observation room.

As soon as he opened the door to the interrogation room, the senior officer promptly left for a coffee break with a firm clap on Yamane's shoulder. He turned to the man sitting in the seat across from the table, who beamed up at him and waved his handcuffed hands. Figuring that he would have trouble with those two kids later, Yamane pulled out the free chair and slid into the seat with a tired groan.

"Shimazaki-san, haven't I told you to keep yourself out of here for more than a _month_ at least? As much as I enjoy seeing your smiling face, I do happen to see enough of you around the neighborhood. Do I even need to ask why you're here this time?" Yamane sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. A light laugh, slightly deeper than expected of the young man's appearance, filtered through his hearing.

"It's the same as always, officer. Maybe we were being a little careless," he shrugged. Yamane raised an eyebrow and leaned back against his chair. He could never do this with any of the other criminals they brought in. That was because Shimazaki Masumi wasn't a criminal at all - he just happened to have the worst luck in next door neighbors. There was this one couple who constantly reported the poor college student to the police.

Yamane knew Shimazaki personally, just as he knew the Nakajima's personally. They all lived in the same neighborhood, within a decent vicinity of each other. The Nakajima's were just down the street and Shimazaki was located just around the corner. He had witnessed himself what the couple who reported the young man saw and took for "acts of domestic violence". Perhaps it was a bit strange, something he didn't completely comprehend, but it was never anything that warranted an arrest.

"So how's your boyfriend doing? Miki Sho-kun, right?" Yamane asked. He and Shimazaki were just speculating, but they had agreed upon the possibility that the neighbors were homophobic and reported them just to spite the two young men. Since Miki was only a year out of high school, it looked particularly bad, he supposed…although Shimazaki was only twenty.

"He's doing great! He recently found a secretarial job. It isn't great, but it makes money and he doesn't mind doing that to pay off his college loans. He insists on paying me rent for the mortgage, but I haven't gotten around to sneaking him back his money…" Shimazaki said happily, rather energetic considering the late hour. He might have seemed suspicious with his pink hair and atrocious attire, but he was harmless.

Sometimes he did throw stuff at his boyfriend or slap him on the back, while he never did that to his younger sister, and Yamane supposed that was the extent of his "abuse". When he had first been assigned to Shimazaki's case, through thorough questioning he had found out that Miki Sho didn't even mind it. He shrugged off the minor blows and never sported any bruises; he was actually so devoted to Shimazaki that it was creepy.

To Yamane at least, it wasn't so creepy because Shimazaki seemed unaware of that fact. They were a happy couple, a bit strange, but he knew after so many months that nothing bad was happening there. Shimazaki's outgoing younger sister attested to that, and the case had closed rather quickly.

"That's good, that's good…the only thing that's been good around here lately," Yamane mused. Shimazaki gave a consoling nod as he tugged at the strings on his plaid scarf. It was decorative and made of sheer materials, but Yamane didn't know how he stood it. "I guess you can go now. We'll pretend I interrogated you and found nothing conclusive."

Shimazaki rose from his seat and bowed at his waist, grinning up at him with a grateful smile. "Thanks. I have a game tomorrow, so I was worrying about having to stay the night again."

Yamane winced at the memories. Occasionally, when he wasn't around the station and Shimazaki came in, the others who interrogated him had detained him for a night. He cleared it up quickly, knowing how important Shimazaki's games were to him. He was an amateur golfer and college student, so his life had to be rather busy between those two occupations and his regular visits to the station. It was an unconventional combination for an unconventional guy.

"No problem. I don't think I need to tell you to stay out of trouble, do I? Really though, try to stay away from here for a little more than a month. Send Miki-kun my regards and stop kissing where the neighbors can see you," Yamane joked as he unlocked the handcuffs and shooed the young man out of the interrogation room. People weren't always tolerant, even in this rapidly changing age, so they dealt with it the best they could.

Yamane had lived in that neighborhood for years, moving in during his last years of college, since the house belonged to a relative on his father's side. The rent was cheap, but still a burden because no one was occupying it and the house was in a good neighborhood. For five years after he moved in alone he only paid rent, and in recent years took up the rest of the mortgage after he found a stable job.

As such, he remembered watching the Shimazaki children grow up before their parents died. At the time he had been a bachelor college student and babysat the youngest daughter on occasion. The son, Masumi, had always watched him from a distance with a smile on his face. The kid had disturbed him for many years, but before he knew it both of the children had been forced to stay with relatives in a different part of the city.

The young man who returned just a year ago with his kid sister, much older than the last time Yamane had seen them, was a different person in comparison. Still, he knew that the siblings weren't trouble, unlike a certain pair of troublemakers currently in the staff room. He groaned as he walked back to the room. They had been awfully quiet. He didn't know whether to be happy or suspicious.

Taking a tentative breath, he opened the door. At first nothing seemed wrong. Miyazaki Yukio's back was to the door and Nakajima Asuka sat in a seat across from him. They stopped talking when he entered, but had been laughing previously. As Yamane moved further into the room, he realized what was really suspicious about the scene. He knew it was too quiet to be true and gaped at what he saw.

"What the hell did you do, Miyazaki?" he hissed at the teenage boy, who merely shrugged in reply. Asuka beamed at him, unable to wave since his hands were pinned and bound to the back of his chair.

"You wanted him out of the way, didn't you? So I tied him up; now he can't bother either of us," he explained simply. "He's actually a lot better like this. It's not liked I glued him there."

"Where did you even find the rope?" asked Yamane in a dubious voice, tugging at the firm knots. They were rather messy, so he supposed Yukio didn't have experience tying his friend up, but he was still in too much shock to react.

"You know how much stuff is laying around here? After I did some digging in the janitor's closet, I found some. Besides, he doesn't seem to mind, does he?" Yukio directed his question at his friend, who responded with a fairly content nod. He seemed a little disappointed that he was unable to move, but didn't complain. At least he wasn't gagged, as well.

Yamane sighed and turned around to brew a fresh pot of coffee. He figured the others in the office would appreciate it. "Untie him, please," he intoned. He heard shuffling behind him as he poured the cheap ground coffee from the supermarket around the corner in the chamber atop the machine. As he waited, he rummaged in the refrigerator for the dinner he bought at a convenience store that morning.

He didn't hear the door open or notice the presence of another person in the room until a deep voice exploded, "What are you _doing_ in here, Officer Yamane? Weren't you supposed to be handling that case that came in?"

Yamane winced at the volume of the man's voice, lucky that he wasn't pouring the hot coffee in a cup yet. He turned around, scratching his hair sheepishly as he glanced over to Yukio and Asuka. Glaring at the boy responsible for the awkward situation, he walked over to his superior and gave him a small bow.

"Sorry, sir. Um, that report was about Shimazaki again, so you don't have to worry. And as for this…I'm fixing it, so can you just forget about it? Miyazaki-kun, _please_ untie Asuka," Yamane said while he chuckled nervously. He was almost hesitant to look at his superior's face, seeing suspicion and an incredulous expression when he did. Yukio moved behind him, plucking a pair of scissors from a drawer.

Seeing as the older man wasn't budging, his arms across over his chest as he watched Yukio cut his friend free, Yamane expanded on the story. "His parents work in the city, so they can't come pick him up. The hospital released him, but he's still under the effects of the painkillers they gave him to stitch his wounds, so they don't want to let him go home on the train or bus alone. I live just down the street from his family, so I volunteered to take him home.

"So, uh…yeah, sir. We'll be going home soon. Do you want coffee?"

* * *

- More characters that are based off other characters from different series! The pink haired guy in this is also in the cover to the story. If you know which series he's from, his somewhat violent tendencies make sense.


	4. Sleepovers

**Fragments of You**

**[A Suicide Club Fanfiction]**

**Sleepovers**

Yamane helped Yukio carry a half dozing Asuka out of the man's normal car to the front steps. His parents would be home shortly, but for now the house was draped in dark blue shadows. Yukio had borrowed the officer's phone in the car to contact his own parents and inform them that he would be sleeping over his friend's house. Mild concern came through the receiver, but they had already figured that out after he didn't come home for hours. Evidently, the hospital had not contacted them.

He dug around Asuka's school bag and pockets, finding the key stored inside the bag, and dragged his friend's nearly limp body into his house. Waving goodbye to the officer, he locked the door and found his way around the area to turn on the lights in the empty house, until all but the upstairs rooms were lit. Perhaps it was a waste of electricity, but he preferred it light.

After a few nudges, he figured that Asuka was about done with his high and was currently returning to earth. The sleepiness he exhibited was the result of all those hours of hyperactivity. With a sigh, he dragged Asuka to the living room couch and lined both their shoes and school bags in the entryway. His house was always a little strange at night with the curtains drawn. For one located in a well populated suburban type neighborhood, it had quite a few windows.

The curtains were drawn shut now; they were only open when Asuka was home for long periods of time during the day. Most of the week, he figured, they were closed to the world. When his friend did bother to pull them back, brilliant light golden sunlight washed over the house, leaving no corner untouched. At night, with not even thin streaks of light leaking in, it was just eerie.

He just thought it was odd since neighbors surrounded the house that there were so many windows. Sure, each one had a low fence and gate with a narrow backyard, but Yukio had always wondered about that. It seemed strange for such a reserved family.

"I guess I'll help myself to tea, huh?" Yukio murmured as Asuka rolled onto his side and pressed his face gingerly against a pillow. He went into the kitchen, but didn't prepare tea. All this house had on a regular basis was water and tea, so he just grabbed two glasses of water and returned to the living room. Pushing one across the coffee table at his friend, he retreated to an armchair and curled up with his hands around the cold glass. The air conditioning kicked on overhead.

He sighed into the cup as frigid air blew down his neck. "This is an awesome sleepover. At least you aren't high anymore. I can be glad about that, right?"

"I'm sorry," Asuka said in a soft voice, not in a whisper, but low as though he didn't want to expend the energy to raise it. Yukio raised an eyebrow as his friend turned to him, peeking at him with half his face still pressed against the pillow. "I'm sorry it's boring. I've never had a sleepover before - never had someone stay over and never stayed over someone else's place. I don't know what to do."

Yukio lowered his head slightly. He had almost forgotten over the course of the last few hours about the reaction his words elicited from his friend. Asuka tended to take them seriously when he might have meant it to be taken lightly. Though that was partially Yukio's fault, since his tone of voice was not always clearly understood or deciphered. Asuka was just bad at that sort of thing, too.

"I didn't know you were listening," he said evenly. He shook his head a bit, "It's alright. People just hang out like normal at sleepovers. Of course, there are things people can do that are normally associated with the word 'sleepover', but we don't have to do those things. They can be a bit weird anyway."

Asuka curled up tighter, tucking his head and face away from view again. His hair splayed over the pillow, messed up and tangled after the day's activities. The nurses had tried to wash his hairline, but there was probably still dried blood there. Yukio leaned to the side and looked at him carefully to confirm his suspicions. Asuka was indeed resting his forehead on his arm, conscious not to dirty the furniture.

"You're always a really considerate person, aren't you?" Yukio blurted before he could think about how Asuka might react. It was always a bit tricky interacting with him. The other boy would have preferred that Yukio not try to gauge his reactions, and instead act normally around him, but Yukio couldn't do that all the time.

"What do you mean?" Asuka said curiously, peering at him with one eye again, strands of hair falling over the little he could see of his face.

"What I mean is - you come off as unapproachable or cold, but in reality you're a considerate person. To the people you are close to, you try not to be a bother to them. I don't think I understand everything about you yet, and I probably never will, but I do know that, at least. And I won't ask you to change, because I don't think you would be the same person if you did. I'm just saying," Yukio ended with a deep exhale.

Asuka was quiet. Finally, he said, "Thanks."

"Thanks for what?" Yukio asked as he rose from his seat, putting the water down on the table and walking over to his friend. With a grin, he pulled him up by the arm and pointed to the stairs in the hallway. "Come on, let's clean you up. You'll feel a lot better and you won't get the furniture dirty. It'll wake you up a bit, too. Let's go."

"Thanks…for knowing that," Asuka muttered as he followed Yukio, shutting the lights as he left the room. "I probably don't get it myself…but no one's ever told me that. It makes sense; I like it."

Yukio glanced over his shoulder with a curious look, but said no more as they reached the second floor and headed to the bathroom.

It was true that he didn't know Asuka very well yet. Although they seemed like close friends, it had only been in the past few months that the other boy started to willingly hang out at their houses like this. Yukio had known Asuka for one year and one year only, not because they had landed in the same homeroom or just discovered that they made good friends, but because Asuka had recently moved to this part of the city.

Out of politeness, most didn't ask Asuka much about his family life after his moody responses when he first transferred. Yukio had just been very persistent, a little cautious in choosing the words he spoke, and very patient. Eventually it became less of a challenge to find out the new introverted student's mysteries and a true friendship. He had to wonder to this day whether or not Asuka had known about it all along. He could be perceptive like that sometimes, since he was so quiet, Yukio supposed.

And that silence, he learned, was a result of spending his childhood in foster homes. A majority of their class probably had no idea that Asuka was not really the Nakajima's son and that his real surname was Ariake. It didn't matter, in the end, but in a sense it _did _matter. Yukio watched as his friend turned away from him as he changed, despite the fact that they were both boys and saw each other nude whenever they changed in the locker rooms.

It wasn't because Asuka's other foster parents hit him as a kid (although some did, he also learned), but rather, because he was sensitive to people's judgements of him. It seemed silly that he was bothered by such things, but Yukio had eventually figured it out. He might not have been consciously aware of it, even. As he slowly told Yukio bits of his childhood, it had become clear to him that Asuka _did _look to others for something - perhaps acceptance, acknowledgement, love, anything other than disdain and annoyance.

People had always criticized him behind his back. Even when Asuka didn't hear their words, he had come to feel like a burden on their shoulders. Socially withdrawn as a kid, he didn't get along with others at school well and caused trouble for the families he stayed with because of things like the incident that happened today. The people who treated him as an obligation didn't help. The people who didn't care for his opinion or emotions were the reason Asuka was no longer a boy who smiled easily.

Asuka, the boy who found suicide distasteful because he didn't want to inconvenience others with his death, was probably also the sincerest person he had ever met. As nonsensical as that sounded, Yukio thought it was true. Because Asuka had so much to hide, it became easy to read him once you got to know his mannerisms a little. He had learned what to say and not to say around him - what reminded him of painful memories and which foster homes he didn't mind recalling.

He glanced at his friend every now and again as he bathed, making sure he didn't splash water on his stitches. There were very faint scars on his back that were nearly faded. If Yukio squinted, he could see the thin, pale line that stretched from Asuka's back over the top of his left shoulder. They didn't hurt, he claimed, and he never flinched if Yukio slapped him on the back.

But that was why Asuka always smiled up at his parents and uttered little comments such as "thanks for knowing that". That was why he would never kill himself, even if he hated the world and didn't have a single friend by his side. Because he knew loneliness and the pain of losing people close to him, he would never dare think of inflicting the same on others.

"You're always too considerate of other people. You should think about yourself a little. Your parents won't mind if you're a burden sometimes; that's what having a kid is about," Yukio told him. Asuka turned his body slightly to face him. He was working shampoo into his hair, but looked down at the water. "They signed up for it and they're willingly keeping you. They don't want to get rid of you if they've had you for a year already."

"Yeah, but…I can't be a burden no matter what. I want to stay here no matter what," Asuka said, his voice trailing into a harsh whisper. The intensity intrigued Yukio. "I can't go somewhere else, not after I've found a good home with good parents who care about me enough to keep me, even if they're not always around. I'm doing alright in school and I have a good friend. That's all I ever wanted, you know? I wanted…wanted someone who…"

He had difficulty describing his emotions, but Yukio had a feeling he knew what the boy wanted to say. "You wanted someone who would be able to see the lies you always tell people? You wanted someone who could see how you really are inside without you telling them. That's kinda sneaky of you."

Asuka was finishing up, washing the last of the soap out. He paused at his hair and gestured for Yukio to come over. "Can you…can you wash it out? I don't want to get the stitches wet."

Yukio smiled and jumped off the counter he had been sitting on, walking over to the side of the bath. Asuka curled up when he approached, but didn't move away. He scars on his back were visible now, faint little scratches he could hardly see. His friend's expression was unreadable, but Yukio didn't really need that to know what his friend was thinking about.

"This is a weird sleepover," he said happily as he picked up the shower head. "But whatever; it's nice in its own way."

They spent the rest of the night laughing. After cleaning the both of them up, they found food to put together for dinner, laughing at each others' incompetence at cooking. Asuka's parents came home, worried over the boy as Yukio knew they would, and bandaged all the other minor wounds he acquired that day. Yukio quietly laughed as his friend was overwhelmed by the two exhausted adults armed with bandaids and medicine.

"It doesn't hurt, really!" he tried to convince them.

"Oh, I almost forgot about these!" Yukio dug the prescription painkillers out of his pocket handed it to Mrs. Nakajima. "They're stronger painkillers. Be careful; he gets a bit weird when he takes them."

Asuka frowned at him and made to punch him in the arm.

The rest of the night after that, they hung around Asuka's bedroom, laughing, falling over each other, and teasing each other, eventually falling asleep in a pile of limbs and sheets in the middle of Asuka's bed.

* * *

- So Asuka is heavily inspired by a certain character from an adorable and bittersweet series. And Yukio has been in many of my other stories in one way or another (not always in a human form or with the same name). I was planning on him being a nice guy, but he turned out kinda snarky. That's just how all my Yukios turn out I guess.

- ah, there is also nothing going on between these two. They're just friends and Asuka has supposedly never had a friend before, so they're pretty close. Does that make sense?


	5. Gossip

**Fragments of You**

**[A Suicide Club Fanfiction]**

**Gossip**

The bell rang and the students of class 4C immediately pushed back their chairs, separating into groups headed to the back of the room or the cafeteria for their lunches. The cubicles along the far wall held their backpacks and textbooks they didn't need, along with any food they had brought from home. During the summer months the area was free of clutter from coats and jackets unless it rained. It was nice out today, though.

A girl with deep red dyed hair jumped from her seat, dashing out of the room before her friends had a chance to greet her. On her way through the back door she grabbed her school bag, darting out into the hall at a small dash. There probably weren't any teachers left on the floor, but she controlled her pace just in case. Running down the stairs, feet moving rapidly, one of her friends from a different class finally caught up to her.

"What's the rush, Akane?" her friend Yuri asked. The red haired girl glanced over her shoulder as she stepped off the staircase and turned the corner that led to the second floor classrooms where the second year students had their lessons. An exuberant, camera ready smile crossed her face as she dodged the second year students walking through the hallway.

"I'm going to get my little brother! He never eats with anyone, so I promised that I would bother him today whether he likes it or not. He can come with us to the roof," she explained in her usual manner, with a loud voice and clear, but quickly spoken words. Her friend gave her a pained look as she turned around and stopped outside a classroom door. Akane didn't notice as she pried it open and strode inside.

"I hate eating on the roof…can't we just eat in the cafeteria?" Yuri muttered, stalking behind her friend as the red head pulled a dramatic stance at the front of the empty classroom. There were a few students in a cluster off to the side, but they ignored the older girl's entrance. It had surprised and awed them in the beginning, but they quickly grew used to her presence and dramatist personality.

The person she was looking for sat in the far back corner near the window, a thin willowy boy who was picking at his bento with his head down. He didn't always sit in that seat whenever Akane came to retrieve him, so that must not have been the one assigned to him. It made sense, since their surname began with the characters "su". He never told her much about the time he spent in the classroom, so she was only speculating.

"Kazuo, get over here so we can eat lunch together! Come on, I _promised_ you I would eat with you today and promises don't get broken in my world!" Akane exclaimed with a toss of her hair. The thin, dark haired boy in the corner didn't even twitch at her voice, continuing to eat nonplussed. Akane huffed, lowered her chin a bit, and promptly lifted her head as she stomped over to his seat.

Clapping her hands down on the desk, rattling the bento box on its surface, she said, "You are coming with me. I promised, didn't I?"

To which her brother finally lifted his head, stared at her with bored, unimpressed eyes, and intoned in a deadpan voice, "I don't remember ever promising such a thing."

"Of course you didn't!" Akane exclaimed with a bright grin as she tilted her head to the side mischievously. Her brother sighed and returned to his food before she opened her mouth again, as if he already knew what she was about to say. It was quite possible that he did know the exact words she was to utter. She did spend a lot of time with her little brother, more than most siblings. "That's because _I'm_ the one who promised, not you. Now come on."

Her brother would never have made her promise to eat lunch with him, since they saw each other enough as it was, so she had taken it upon herself to do it instead. Her mother always told her that her brother should socialize more, so she had taken the responsibility to heart. While she did leave him alone most of the time as he wanted, occasionally she would pull something like this that he didn't appreciate.

_Whatever,_ she thought, as long as it was good for him. She stared at him, arms crossed expectantly as she waited. When he refused to so much as shift his feet, she frowned and picked up the light blue cover to his bento box and covered it. His hands paused in midair and he lifted his head a fragment, looking up at her with the vaguest of annoyance behind his vacant expression.

He glanced at the box in her hands and back up at her face. With a shrug he said simply, "I guess I'm done eating. You can have it if you want."

Akane instantly released a huff of anger and shoved the bento at her friend, who took it tentatively. Maneuvering around the chair and desk, she seized her younger brother by his arms and shoulders and shoved him down the aisle just slow enough for him to grab his bag as they went. After they were out the door, she let go of him, aware that he wouldn't try to escape once they were that far away. Kazuo was always compliant like that.

The roof was crowded, yes, but that was why Akane liked to eat up there with her friends. Most of them were already gathered in a circle against one of the chain link fence walls. She waved at them with wide, sweeping motions and continued to nudge her brother in front of her so that he wouldn't fade into the background. This was why she liked the rooftop, cluttered as it was. No one cared about who she was here.

Akane might have liked the spotlight, but she didn't like to hear people talk about her behind her back when she was in the same room as them, whether they were compliments or not. The people who hung out here as opposed to the classroom were somewhat different types. It was like the cafeteria, where there was so much clamor that she couldn't hear what her neighbors were discussing anyways. It was just such a nice day that she found it a shame to stay inside.

"Hey, everyone, this is my little brother! You've met him before. Kazuo, say hi!" Akane urged the younger boy as they sat down in the rough circle of friends gathered. Yuri had disappeared halfway up to the rooftop, so Akane figured that she had opted for the cafeteria after all. "So what were you talking about while I was fetching this guy?"

She made to pat her brother on the head, but he ducked away, scooted a little further from her, and opened the bento that Yuri had returned to him on his crossed legs. He began picking at the food again, plucking pieces out with his chopsticks like a small bird uninterested in its food. Ignoring him, she turned to her friends.

"Ah, the teachers, you know…they're thinking about not letting students on the roof anymore!" one girl said, her voice alternating between a whisper and a loud giggle. The rest of them broke into a laugh at the absurd idea until the fit died down and they realized that the school very well could dictate that they could no longer hang out on the rooftop, even with the chain link fence around it.

"Really, it's all because of those kids in that high school in the next district over who jumped off the roof of their school! They can't stop people from committing suicide if they really want to do it, so what's the point in banning us from the rooftop?" said a boy who frowned as he spoke. Murmurs spread across the group, indignant cries rising up here and there. "But did you hear about the news with that maniac guy?"

"Who, that guy who's calling himself Charlie Manson?"

"Isn't it Charles Manson?"

"That's not the point. He was saying something about being behind a suicide club. Isn't that crazy? I don't remember seeing anything like that on the net, though. Maybe those high school students had something to do with it. My parents are pretty freaked out by it." A girl next to the one who spoke nodded and put her food down.

"My cousin's friend killed himself. It was really sudden, since he's in college and all."

Akane watched everyone discuss the hot topic of the past month, eventually falling silent in order to observe the others. There was plenty of that talk on the set and at practice after school, much of which was a whole lot darker and more mature than junior high schoolers' conversations. Of course, Akane would never think of committing suicide even as she entertained her friends' notions of trying it. It was just silly for someone like her. After all, why should she miss out on all the fun around her?

She couldn't restrain the small giggle that came from her mouth. This world belonged to her since the day she was born! Everyone else, even her adorably reclusive little brother, were figments of her imagination. That was why she couldn't really blame him for being so withdrawn all the time. It was alright for him to be like that, too, since he existed in her mind and was precious to her. She would do anything for him!

Watching the others as they mulled over the subject was amusing, too. Her brother didn't seem to be listening, but she knew better. He was listening, and could recall any part of the conversation later upon request, but he didn't care for it at all. When he was done eating he took a book out from his bag and slipped the bento box back inside.

"Ah, I have the perfect idea!" Akane exclaimed as she turned away from her little brother and the thin red book in his hands. "Now listen carefully, because we have to go back to class soon and I won't be in school tomorrow."

"Oh, you're going to the set again, Sugimoto-san?" asked a girl. Akane nodded enthusiastically. "I'm jealous; you get to skip school."

"Hey, I have to work too, you know!" Akane joked, because she really did enjoy what she did. She loved acting, even if it was in some half-baked, low budget film. "We're almost done with the last scenes. And we're going to have a big party one night when we're done. You have to watch it when it comes out! Even if I'm not playing a huge role, it's still a good movie. And I don't know, I might get a chance to act in some dramas."

Akane got sidetracked easily, especially when it was about her acting career or her family. Almost everyone had been distracted since she brought up her plan, some moving between different groups on the roof and some picking up new discussions as she talked about the hilarious antics that went on behind the set. The behind the scenes were her favorite parts sometimes, because she always wound up remembering the fun times she and her cast mates had while they were shooting.

The bell rang again shortly, ending the lunch break and erasing all of her previous thoughts about that brilliant plan she had devised on the spot. Some might even have thought that she intended to drop it from the beginning, simply saying it so that she could catch their attention. Akane was known to do that.

She waved goodbye to her little brother as he disappeared down the stairs leading to the second year classrooms and returned to class 4C smiling and thinking of the finished product that she was now working on. It would be sad to leave her coworkers, but she would probably see them around the industry again and have a chance to act with them again, too.

* * *

- Ha, more of the actual _Suicide Club_ plot. Two new characters, too: Sugimoto Akane and Sugimoto Kazuo. They are also based off other characters from a certain show. In Japan, when they go by "alphabetical order" it is really in the common order that they put their characters in, which go by syllables.

- That Charlie/Charles Manson thing was in the version of the movie I saw. When Genesis compares himself to Charles Manson, I didn't really listen to find out if he really said Charlie or if the subtitles were wrong. Either way.


End file.
